


On The Virge of Death

by iwillphysicallyfiteyou



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Multi, thomas sanders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillphysicallyfiteyou/pseuds/iwillphysicallyfiteyou
Summary: Four men go into a coma and individually have to go through memories to choose whether or not they want to live or die. Then when they wake from their comas they all meet.The Different Classes:Class A: Old AgeClass B: IllnessClass C: Accidental HomicideClass D: Accidental OverdoseClass E: Complications at birth (baby or mom)Class F: AbortedClass G: Allergic ReactionClass H: Violent AnimalClass J: MachineClass K: StarvationClass L: Accidental AffixiationClass M: Fallen Object(s)Class N: ChemicalsClass O: DrowningClass P: ElectricityClass Q: EnvironmentClass R: SuicideClass S: SurgeryClass T: Self-harmClass U: ChockingClass V: Unclean Air or WaterClass X: Organ FailureClass Y: Blood LossClass Z: Other





	1. Case: Virgil (1)

CW: Suicide mention, abuse, suicidal thoughts, and death.

Case: Virgil Arbour

Age: 18

Class R

Virgil slowly opened his eyes before shielding them from the bright sky. He couldn’t remember where he is or what happened, all he knew was that he is in the middle of a garden filled with his favorite flower, lilacs. It was peaceful. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then all the memories came back and he shot his eyes open. The last thing that he remembered was… too dark to even think.

“What am I doing here? I shouldn’t be… alive,” Virgil mumbled to himself.

“You’re not, well not really.” Virgil whipped his head around to find out who was speaking. “Don’t even bother trying to find me; you’ll be wasting your time. I have no physical form.

“What is happening?” Virgil was starting to panic. The once light blue sky starting to turn a dark red.

“You’re in a coma,” the voice responded.

“So I didn’t succeed?” Virgil asked.

“Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. You get to decide.”

“Well, I decide that I didn’t.”

“You don’t get to decide quite yet, you have to get through the maze first.”

“The maze? What are you talking about?” Virgil is getting more confused by the second.

A door appeared in front of him.

“This is the front door to my parent’s house, what is it doing here?”

“Open it,” the voice demanded, so Virgil did.

Suddenly he was in his childhood house. His mom was doing the dishes while his dad was watching TV. His sister, Violet, was playing dolls with Virgil.

“Violet, I’ve missed you so much,” Virgil breathed, but no one reacted. “Hey, weird ominous voice, shouldn’t they somewhat react to a random man walking into their house?”

“This is a memory, not real life. Some will react, some will not. This is a situation where they don’t react.” The voice explained.

“Right. Why this memory? This is just a normal afternoon.”

“We always start with a small and repetitive memory first.”

A red door appeared, and Virgil opened it.

The smell of food overwhelmed him. He was staring at his fifteen-year-old self with Maggie.

“My first date. Wow, this relationship was horrible.”

“That’s an interesting fashion choice,” Maggie told fifteen-year-old Virgil.

“Warning sign,” Virgil mumbled under his breath. “I hate this, can I leave?”

“Do you see a door?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

“You have a lot of sass for someone that’s not a person,” Virgil mumbled.

“You’re really smart Maggie,”fifteen-year-old Virgil said.

“Thanks,” Maggie smiled.

“This is really painful.”

A brown door appeared in front of him. Maggie’s door. He reluctantly opened the door. Sixteen-year-old Virgil had tears down his face as Maggie screamed at him.

“I’ve had enough, I want to go, and I have made my choice.” Virgil’s voice is cracking now.

“Not yet.”

Virgil closed his eyes because he knew what was coming next. He heard a loud smack and a strangled cry.

“Y-you hit me,”sixteen-year-old Virgil croaked. Tears started to flow down Virgil’s face as he opened his eyes.

“This is the worst memory,” Virgil admitted.

“But this isn’t even the worst she did-”

“But this was the first,” Virgil interrupted the voice.

“Close your eyes,” the voice gently demanded, and Virgil obliged. “Open.”

Virgil opened his eyes and saw that he is now in a field with bunnies and guinea pigs surrounding him.

“Your Nirvanas all have to do with nature,” the voice pointed out.

“Yeah, I’ve always loved nature.” Virgil crouched down and pets a cute white bunny.

“We still have more memories.”

“But I just want to stay here.” Virgil starts petting a guinea pig.

“I know.”

“Please, no more bad memories. No more nightmares.”

“Close your eyes.”

“No.”

“You can’t choose if you don’t follow the rules.”

Virgil let out a shaky breath and shut his eyes.

“Open.”

“Hey Virgil,” Alice greeted as he smiled at past him.

“This was only a week ago.”

“Yes, this is quite recent.” Alice looked straight at him, and he let out a shriek.

“You can hear me?” He asked.

“Yes,” Past Virgil said.

“What is happening here?” Virgil asked.

“Why?” Alice asked.

“What? Why what?” Virgil asked.

“Why did you try to leave? I really like you Virge; I thought you liked me too.”

“Alice, I like you too. I’m sorry, but it had to be done,” Virgil said.

“You know that’s not true,” Past Virgil said.

“You can move on from your past, from Maggie, so many people love you and want you to stay,” Alice said with a gentle voice.

“Maggie wants differently.”

“Do you care about what Maggie wants?” Alice asked, and Virgil shook his head no.

“So why does it matter?” She asked.

Virgil hugged Alice and started to cry and closed his eyes.

“I just realized what I did, God I’m so sorry. I have to stay, I have to stay.”

“You can’t decide yet,” the voice said.

He opened his eyes and he was in a hospital room and looking down at his eight-year-old sister.

“Violet,” Virgil whispered.

The heartbeat monitor stopped and people rushed in.

“Violet!” Virgil screamed.

A white door with carvings of flowers on it that he’s never seen before opened in front of him. He whipped it opened and rushed inside. He can’t stand being in that hospital room. He is now on an empty beach.

“What is your choice?” The voice asked.

Virgil hesitates before saying, “After Violet, I’m not sure. Alice is just a crush, but Violet is my sister and she’s gone. She’s been gone for how many years, eight years?”

“Alright, one more memory.”

“What, but I thought we were done-”

“Close your eyes.” Virgil considered disobeying for a couple of seconds but decided to close his eyes anyways.

“Open.”

Six-year-old Violet and eight-year-old Virgil were playing with their mom’s exercise ball.

“I am going to be a doctor when I grow up, what are you going to be?” Violet asked.

“An artist,” young Virgil replied.

Violet stuck out her pinky, “you have to pinky promise that you’re going to be an artist when you grow up.”

Young Virgil pinky promised.

Virgil had a soft smile while tears ran down his face. Virgil closed his eyes and waited for the voice to say, “Open.”

They were in the middle of a forest.

“What is your choice?” The voice asked.

“I’m going to stay and make my sister proud.”

And then all he could see was white.


	2. Case: Roman (2)

CW: Death, blood, violence, strong language, injury, over-working, and poor self-care.

Name: Roman Rodwell

Age: 19

Class Y

The bright white lights blinded Roman for a second before his eyes adjusted. He looked around on the stage where only he stood. The chairs were empty of an audience, and there was no one at the piano even though the classical music was playing.

“Dance Roman,” a voice said.

“What?”

“I said dance.”

“What is happening?” Roman raised his voice.

“You’re dead, don’t you remember?”

Roman’s eyes widened as all of the memories flooded into his brain. The play, the man, the everything.

“Oh god,” Roman murmured.

“Now, Roman, are you ready?”

“For?”

“The memories, of course,” the patronizing voice said.

“Well, that’s extremely vague and onymous.”

“Open the door.” A white door with red and blue painted handprints scattered all over it appeared.

“Holy shit, talk about memories. That’s right, Paris and Washington and I totally destroyed that door.”

“Less talking and more walking.”

Roman slowly opened the door and sauntered through it. Children’s laughter filled his ears as he looked into the backyard of his childhood house. Roman at ten years old is fingerpainting an easel with his siblings. His sister Paris is five, and his brother Washington is six.

“Holy blonde,” Roman smiled to himself. Even though currently Roman’s hair is a dark blonde, almost brown, ten-year-old Roman’s hair is a light platinum. Paris’ pink dyed hair and Washington’s ginger hair is also now light blonde in their youthful stage.

“Mom is going to be so mad,” Washington laughed.

“She told us to paint this for decoration, so technically we didn’t do anything wrong,” young Roman argued.

“But the door-”

“It’s fine!” Washington and young Roman shushed.

Paris took the blue paint and dumped it into the pool.

“The pool!” Washington’s face went red. “How dare you!”

“Umm Paris, why did you do that?” Young Roman asked.

“You two are mean.” Paris crossed her arms.

“So you ruin my pride and joy?” Washington stalked towards the youngest.

“Washington, no,” young Roman said, but it was too late. Washington’s relaxed hand turned into a fust and plunged into the side of Paris’ face. A blood-curdling scream rang from the tiny girl and their mother came running out of the house while demanding they tell her what happened. Paris ran into young Roman’s arms as their mom scolded Washington.

“I forgot about Paris getting hurt,” Roman mumbled to himself as he watched the scene unfold.

“Behind you,” the voice said. Roman quickly turned to see a brown wooden door with a ‘Heathers’ movie poster taped to it. Roman couldn’t but smile at his old teenage bedroom’s door. He opened the door and walked through, and the scent of Axe and sweat overwhelmed him.

Seventeen-year-old Roman is standing in front of a mirror while singing.

“I didn’t sound half bad,” Roman pointed out as he tapped his foot to the beat of his younger selves’ singing.

Suddenly young Roman stopped singing. Roman stopped tapping his foot in surprise. Young Roman looked Roman straight in his eyes.

“Voice, what is happening?” Roman asked as he backed up until he hit a wall.

“You practiced and practiced even after you burn out. After you recover- no even before you recovered you would go back to practice. Did you ever take a break?” Young Roman asked as his eyes turned black.

“What? I, um, I guess I could’ve been a little easier to my vocal chords.”

“You guess? Are you kidding me?” Young Roman is shouting now. Roman shakes all fear he had for this portrayal of his younger self while understanding fills his mind.

“I get it now, you are trying to scare me into being better.”

“Good Roman, you’re getting it.” Young Roman smiled widely before disappearing.

Roman closed his eyes, and he opened them to see an audience watching him. He looked down to see the prince outfit that he wore when he played Prince Charming. He looked around to see that he’s in the middle of the show.

“To be or not to be, that is the question,” an actress wearing a goose costume dramatically proclaimed.

“That’s not even the right play,” Roman corrected.

“Off with his head!” An actor dressed as a wizard yelled before charging at Roman.

“What is happening?” Roman yelled before running away from the actor. Suddenly everyone froze and the spotlight was to Roman.

“What do you dream?” The voice asked.

“What?”

“I asked you, what do you dream?”

“Umm, I dream of being a successful actor.”

“Are you willing to do anything for that?”

“Yes.”

“Even die?”

“Of course.”

“Even live?”

“I’m not sure what that means, but yeah.”

“Close your eyes.”

Roman did as he is told, and when he opened them he looked around at the cameras flashing at him.

“What is your choice? Do you want to live or die?”

“Live, obviously.”

Then all he saw was white.


End file.
